


To Find the Sea

by BigBlueKitty



Category: FRAGILE さよなら月の廃墟 | Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Mild Suicide Ideation, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBlueKitty/pseuds/BigBlueKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And after countless summers, one day, I was all alone again."<br/>Ten years after he’d thought them lost forever, Seto finds an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Left in Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Story and chapter titles taken from [Build the Cities (Empire of Sound) by Tristam x Karma Fields](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1I3z3g1zas). Also, there are a few passing references to Japanese mythology/Shintoism which could very well be completely wrong so feel free to correct me. Also, also, I'm using some elements from the manga but not too many so potential spoilers if you haven't read it but you also don't need to have read it to understand this fic.

Seto buried Ren in a shallow grave under the ruins of the subway station where they’d first met. It hadn’t been the prettiest spot and more than once, Seto thought it might have been better to bury her elsewhere. But this seemed fitting – to end at the beginning.

So, he wrote her name on the wall in the same paint she’d used to mark it ten years ago and laid her to rest beneath it. It had been a short epitaph. Seto hadn’t known when she was born or even when she died, not really. He still doesn’t. He wrote her name and did his best to draw a cat beside it. He thought she would have liked that.

She’d died peacefully in her sleep. Her health deteriorated quickly without medicine. Her time spent suffering, weak and sickly, had been short and, she’d assured him, painless. Even now, Seto’s almost positive she’d been lying. But she never complained and she never stopped smiling. Even in death, she smiled.

Seto knows that smile was for him. It’s why he keeps going. It’s why, even three years after her death, even though sometimes it hurts so much he can hardly see, can hardly breathe, even though he misses her more than he’d ever thought possible, even after all this time, he keeps living. She would want him to, even if he doesn’t.

He’d done his best to move forward. In the wake of her death, his first thought had been to return to the observatory. There were memories there, but they no longer haunted the place with hostility. Most of them were good; he thought he remembered them being good.

Sometimes, he still wonders if his own memories are failing in their honesty, leaving the past rose colored simply because it has already happened.

Seto gathers the last of the wild strawberries, a wry smile quirking his lips. He might have laughed had he not felt so sorry for himself. Ten years in this world and three in isolation have not hardened his heart as he might have wished.

Shelter is shelter. The observatory is large enough for him to grow food; it has space to build any mechanical necessities, few as they are. The cats visit frequently. They keep the mice away from his gardens and he gives them spare fish he nets from the river. Occasionally, they curl up with him beside the fire, making the solitude of his current situation a little more bearable.

No such luck today. The river’s dried considerably during this summer’s drought, leaving the fish few and far between. By the time he sets his meager rations in the refrigerator, a rudimentary thing with exposed wires and solar paneling, it’s all he can do to scrounge up a small sweetfish for the blind orange cat that’s taken a particular liking to him.

Seto scratches her behind the ear. Her purrs echo throughout the room, giving him the slightest comfort in the emptiness. Soon he’ll need to venture out towards the sea.

The day and a half journey is not as treacherous as it had once been. The downfall of the Glass Cage Project brought with it an end to the malicious Thought Entities and robotic Dolls that had once plagued the trek with danger. Now the dolls sit lifeless, decaying in the rain while weeds take root in the crevices of what’s left of their metal bodies. It’s left the whole world static – vacant save the small animals able to survive the fallout.

Seto sets the strawberries in the refrigerator. He’ll prepare the seeds for when the weather dampens later. For now, he lights a lantern and curls up on an old but relatively comfortable mattress with the book he’s currently rereading, Peter Pan. 

Seto smiles ruefully. Peter Pan, the story of a mischievous young boy who never grows up. At times, Seto envies Pan; he’s not thought himself young in many years. Yet all too often his thoughts drift to days long since passed – days filled with carousels, dark hair, and pretty green eyes. How sad for a man only twenty five years of age to think himself so old.

Seto touches the piece of jewelry that might as well be permanently affixed to his left ring finger for as often as he removes it. It’s long since lost its shine, too much dirt packed between the finer details of the skull from when Seto wears it gardening, but he’s too afraid of losing it to take it off.

He’ll have to pass the amusement park to get to the ocean. Trying to go around would only waste resources he can’t spare and time he doesn’t have.

Ten years in this world have not hardened his heart as he might have wished. The amusement park is just another place filled with memories, most of them good. If he cries when he gets there, then so be it.

The blind cat jumps onto Seto’s lap, demanding attention he’s only too happy to give. He extinguishes the lantern and sets the book down for another night. Tomorrow, he’ll gather his makeshift cooler and old katana and cross the land to find the sea. He’ll keep moving forward, even when it means returning to the past.

* * *

The amusement park hasn’t changed much in the ten years since Seto’s first visit. The grass is a little longer, the roller coaster is a little more rusted, but the feeling is the same. He still feels small under the Ferris wheel towering overhead; still lonely under the moon, same as he’d been after the loss of PF. 

That time, he hadn’t stayed lonely for long. Crow had been quick to mitigate Seto’s grief in such a way that he could continue in his quest unabated. Crow had been not just a distraction but a friend in a time of need, even if neither had known it at the time. He’d left a void that Ren could scarcely fill – they all had.

This time there is no distraction, no companion for Seto to rely on. The grief returns with the same intensity it had just days after Ren’s death. His heart clenches, tears welling behind his eyes. He’s long since come to accept crying as a coping mechanism. Thus, here in the long abandoned Lunar Hill Fun Land, Seto weeps openly.

It doesn’t take him long to calm himself. He’s done his mourning. If he’s to survive like they would want him to, he can’t let it slow him down.

The carousel has changed the most over the last decade. Most of the horses have broken down completely, detaching as their poles splinter away from the main body of the machine. The few left intact are barely recognizable with their paint chipped and their heads and legs rotting away. On a night like this, it gives the contraption an eerie sense of foreboding.

Still, one of the horses is stable enough to hold Seto’s weight when he sits on it. Though he has the route largely memorized, he double checks the map anyway.

He’ll need to pass the dam to get to the ocean. There’s not much left of the structure but there’s enough of a clear path through the ruins that it makes more sense to just go through instead of over or around. He wonders if he should check the doll room but dismisses the idea as quickly as it forms. It would be pointless, wouldn’t it?

He’d been to the doll room as soon as he’d discovered discarded solar panels – small, shiny things that allow machines to operate using energy from the sun. It had been nothing short of a miracle when he’d found an old book in the observatory detailing how to use them. His first thoughts after finding the things had turned to Crow. It had been a long shot, but he’d thought, just maybe, he could use them to recharge Crow’s battery. If he could fit it with the panels and convert it to use solar power instead of electricity like he had for the old refrigerator, Crow might never run out of power again.

Whether he’d have been able to do it or not hadn’t mattered. Crow’s body was long gone by the time Seto made it back. He’d thought maybe the Merchant had picked up Crow for some reason or another but Seto never knew for sure – the Merchant disappeared before he got the chance to ask.

It still feels wrong referring to Crow as anything less than human – calling his end anything less than death. Seto knows logically that Crow had been a machine and that machines could be repaired. But it still feels like a disservice to acknowledge that fact.

In a way, Crow had been the most human thing Seto had encountered during his journey. Crow had not been completely untouched by the world and her sorrows. He’d longed for his memories and the life they may have provided; had a thirst for understanding, an insatiable curiosity that led him to adventure, and a need for friendship the same as any other human. In this way, Seto had found a kindred spirit in the boy.

He misses Crow dearly, even now.

The amusement park makes a decent camp once Seto has a fire started. The Merchant, of course, no longer makes the rounds, but a grey tabby does join him for a few moments to warm up. Seto doesn’t have any fish to spare but the cat doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

Seto sleeps fitfully under the half moon, surrounded by comfortable heat and good memories.

* * *

Seto doesn’t dream much anymore. On the rare occasions when he wakes with tears in his eyes and the passing image of silver hair or bright green eyes, he reaches out to his memories and begs them to stay a little longer. He dares not let the present disturb the careful peace his mind has crafted for him while he slept if only for a few more moments. 

Moments don’t last. His dreams are much too fragile, fading away with the moonlight come dawn. In the following wakefulness, he’ll wipe his eyes and forget why they’d been wet in the first place.

Seto doesn’t dream much anymore, but he thinks he’s dreaming right now.

It shouldn’t surprise him that Crow makes an appearance in this dream but it does. Crow leans over him as he lies on the ground, staring up at the crescent moon and those pretty green eyes. Seto opens his mouth to say something, anything – ‘I miss you’ ‘I want to see you again’ ‘Please stay with me’ ‘Please don’t make me wake up’ – but he can’t speak. Try as he might, he can’t form the words, can’t make a sound. Crow stares at him, silent, pensive, maybe even a little wistful.

Crow reaches out and takes Seto’s hand. He smirks, cat-like eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, ain’t this a pretty trinket?” he says, thumbing the skull ring Seto hasn’t taken off in ten years. “Looks valuable, too.”

Seto remembers this, the little song and dance they’d done when they’d first met all that time ago. It hadn’t been the ring back then, of course not, but it still…

Crow takes the ring and removes it with gentleness he probably wouldn’t have possessed had it not been for the fog of Seto’s clouded memories conjuring the image.

“It’s special to me,” Seto repeats, voice a soft whisper lost to the wind but Crow hears him; he knows Crow can hear him. “Give it back.”

“Oh?” Crow sings. For a second, his eyes look sad as if he, too, has become caught up in his own memories. “If you want this thing so bad, you’ll have to catch me to get it.”

He doesn’t run away this time. Even as the world starts to fade, even with the dream crumbling around them, Crow doesn’t leave Seto’s side.

As the ground falls away, leaving Seto floating on the edge of consciousness, he hears a voice, familiar he thinks, a soft whisper lost in the wind.

“You are my best friend.”

Seto doesn’t dream much anymore. On the rare occasions when he wakes with tears in his eyes, he’ll wipe them and forget why they’d been wet in the first place.

This time, he finds that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to keep them dry.

* * *

Seto never makes it to the ocean or even the dam. Little more than halfway there, the clouds darken overhead and release the rain they’ve been collecting for the past month. 

The sudden downpour catches Seto off guard. He runs blindly into the foliage, quickly losing himself in a decade’s worth of overgrowth. He thinks of nothing other than escaping the rain and keeping the map he’s filled out over the years dry and legible. He doesn’t think of the ache in his chest or the sting in his eyes or the pain in his throat. The rain is too cold, harsh against his skin. It washes away all thought, leaving nothing but the need to run.

So he runs as fast as his legs will carry him until he can’t anymore.

Seto collapses somewhere in the thicket, panting heavily from exhaustion. There’s a cut on his knee and he can see his breath. Rain beats down on his back. Fresh tears well up in his eyes; he can’t ignore it anymore. Grief hits him with the force of a typhoon, knocking the air out of his lungs, making him choke. He can’t catch his breath through his sobs; he can’t stop, can’t bring himself to get back on his feet and keep going.

He could die out here, lost in the woods – dehydrate, starve, or just let the cold take him tonight. Surely, it would hurt less than this, this loneliness, this isolation, this, this…

He misses them so much. Grandpa, PF, Crow, Sai, Ren, all of them; he misses all of them so much he can’t stand it.

Seto closes a fist around a handful of loose dirt. The ring on his left hand catches the rain just right, making it sparkle even though it lost its shine long ago. It hurts so much.

“I miss you,” he whispers but no one is around to hear him. “I miss you so much. Why can’t I…”

A wave of agony washes over him with the next torrent of rainwater. He hates this rain, hates the way it makes this pain impossible to ignore, and hates the way the thunder drowns out his screams.

“Where are you?” he shouts at the sky. “How am I supposed to catch you when I can’t find you? How am I…? How am I supposed to…?” Seto takes a short, gasping breath. _How am I supposed to go on without you?_

A soft meow catches his attention over the rain. A cat, white as snow, stares at him through copper penny eyes.

“What?” Seto says slowly. “Why are you…?”

The cat only meows again, nudging his arm. Its fur is dry when Seto reaches over to touch it.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks.

The cat blinks slowly at him, like they do sometimes when they want food, but he’s got nothing to spare. “I-I don’t…”

The cat nudges his arm again before sauntering off into the trees. Strangely, Seto swears he sees it glance back at him. Does it want him to follow?

“Wait,” he calls. “Where are you going? Come back!”

Without a second thought, he bolts after the cat.

* * *

Seto falls through the trees winded and soaking wet with no way of knowing how much time has passed or where he is. Even if he were able to take out the map, he’s never been here before. He’s sure he’d remember it if he had.

Standing at the edge of the forest, a long concrete staircase reaches up to meet the horizon. Seto can only barely make out the fox statues guarding the gate at the top. "This must be some kind of shrine," he murmurs to himself. He's read about these shrines in books at the observatory. Foxes at the entrance mean it's dedicated to the Shinto deity Inari, he thinks. This is the first time he's seen one in person. He's not sure why, but the air feels warmer somehow.

A small meow breaks his train of thought. The white cat sits perched several steps up as if beckoning him to follow.

Seto hesitates, though he’s not sure why. Shelter is shelter and the rain doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up anytime soon. But something about this place feels different – ethereal almost. The sun strains against the clouds, giving the landscape a glowing pink hue that makes everything shine. It seems too beautiful to exist in a world that’s become so ugly.

Seto fidgets with the ring, twisting the skull to his palm with his thumb. What exactly is he expecting to find?

_‘What, are you scared?’_

_‘Yes,’_ he wants to say. _‘I’m terrified.’_

The cat turns and walks calmly up the stairs. Only when it looks back does Seto follow.

* * *

Seto’s not sure what he’d expected to find in the dilapidated shrine, but for some reason he’s not all that surprised. 

Despite its very apparent abandonment, the shrine is far from empty. Quite opposite, in fact, the shrine is filled nearly to the brim with an assortment of things – materials, discarded garbage, rusted tools, and torn cloth. It’s all entirely too reminiscent of a decade ago when he’d first set out on his own in search for someone to be with.

So he’s even less surprised when he sees the mechanical body of the Merchant resting peacefully among the scattered items. Seto almost smiles; it’s been far too many years and yet it seems some things may never change.

He takes a moment to cover the Merchant with a faded purple blanket. “Rest well, old friend,” he says, bowing his head in silent prayer. He’s never been religious, only able to learn from books kept in the observatory, but it seems appropriate in a place like this. “It’s good to know just where you ended up.”

His first priority is lighting a fire. There are enough dried sticks and old papers to get a decent blaze going easily despite the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls. Shadows dance along the corners of the room, further darkening what he can’t already see.

Comfortably seated, Seto takes out his map, thankfully still mostly dry, and tries to find just where he is. Of course, his own hand drawn streets leave him guessing in uncharted territory.

“Hmm,” he muses aloud. “If I’m in the forest then…” He taps the map contemplatively. The forest is only a few kilometers north of the dam so if he can just keep going south, he should be able to…

A loud clang startles him from his thoughts. “Who-who’s there?” he calls out to the darkness.

A wailing meow answers him.

Seto lets out a relieved sigh. In his haste to make this shelter habitable for the night, he hadn’t noticed the white cat’s absence.

“You scared me,” he says, walking over to the source of the noise. “Don’t you want to come out and warm up?”

He thinks the cat might be hiding amidst the junk. He pulls back a metal sheet but there’s no cat to be found. To the contrary, a flash of black catches his eye.

At first, he thinks it might be another cat, but it’s not moving. Seto pulls harder on the sheet until he can reach his hand around to touch the black thing.

It’s soft and feels a bit like hair more than fur, for which he’s grateful. He’s never been very good at handling the dead cats that turn up, rare as the event is. Still, if not a cat then what else could it be?

Seto tugs the sheet metal from its stuck position and shoves it aside. There’s more color to this thing, dark maroon, green and orange stripes, a yellow scarf, and something pale and skin-textured.

Seto’s hands shake.

But that… it can’t be…

“Crow?”


	2. In This Dream

Stand by… …

Re-e-econfiguring data… …

_Where am I?_

Me-e-emoooory corrrrrr-c-c-corupted-ted-teeeee… …

“Hello?”

Reeeeconfigur-i-ing… …

Staaaaaand by… …

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

_Who are you?_

“Scanning ID number H-zero-zero-five-three-three-four-eight. Systems operational.”

_Hello?_

“Oh! He seems to be coming to.”

A laugh.

“You know robots can’t really ‘come to’, don’t you?”

“He’s not just a robot. He’s our most advanced AI to date!”

“So it’s a he now?”

_Who are you?_

Green eyes open to a blinding white light.

“Those are the pronouns he chose and I respect them,” a feminine voice says. “You know, he’s really more of a person than a robot.”

“You’re projecting,” a different voice says. He thinks he might recognize them.

“How extensive is the damage?” says someone else.

“Hmm, nothing we can’t fix,” says the first voice.

“Least we don’t have to pitch him. Could you imagine all that work wasted?”

“What was he even doing?” asks the second.

He tries to turn his head to look at the people the voices belong to but he can’t. ‘Where am I?’ he tries to say but no words come out.

He knows these voices – remembers them from somewhere. But where…?

Sttttta-nd by… …

_No wait._

_Is this…?_

_Is this where I came from?_

“Showing off as usual,” the first woman says. “He really is just like a teenage boy; can’t keep him down, can’t hold him back.”

A face appears over him – a soft smile and pretty blue eyes.

Stand by… …

_Wait!_

He tries to talk to her – ‘Who are you?’ ‘Where am I?’ ‘What happened to me?’ – but he can’t even move.

_Is this a dream?_

Rebooting system… …

_Wait…_

“Time to wake up.”

“Crow…?”

_Wait!_

Rebooting… …

* * *

It’s dark when Crow opens his eyes. Static passes over his vision before it corrects itself, automatically adjusting to the low light. He can see something flashing red at the top of his right eye – words. _‘Reboot complete. Systems operational.’_ The short message disappears just a moment later.

Crow blinks once, twice, but all he sees is the full moon through holes in the ceiling.

Something shifts beside him and it’s only then that he realizes he’s lying on his back on some kind of wooden table. The thing makes a noise of malcontent. Crow has a moment to wonder if he should be worried but his brain… system is still scrambled. _Right, I’m a robot_.

The thing shifts again. They’re warm – or his sensors indicate that they’re warm. He can’t actually feel the heat radiating from their body but he knows it’s there. Human then.

_But I thought Seto was…_

Crow sits up. The thing beside him is indeed a human, head resting in their arms, asleep on the table. It’s a little bit longer, but there’s no mistaking that maroon hair.

“Seto?” Crow whispers. But that’s impossible. Last time Crow saw Seto, they were at the dam and Crow was…

“Seto,” he calls again, shaking Seto’s shoulder. “Seto, wake up. Where are we? How did we get here?”

Seto stirs but doesn’t wake.

Crow frowns. “Oh, come on,” he mumbles, shaking Seto’s shoulders with more force. “Humans can’t need sleep that much!”

Finally, Seto opens his eyes – the same beautiful amethyst reflecting moonlight as they had during their first meeting. Yet, something about them seems different. They’re still soft, hazy with sleep, but they seem older somehow – tired and filled with deep sorrow. What happened at that dam?

“Wha-?” Seto blinks the weariness from his eyes. Crow can’t help but feel amused as they widen to the size of dinner plates. “Crow?” Seto whispers, as if he can’t believe what’s right in front of him.

“Well duh,” Crow drawls. “Who else would it be?”

Moisture springs to Seto’s eyes in a way that’s all too familiar. He throws his arms around Crow before either one of them even knows what’s happening.

Crow sits too stunned to move for several seconds. “Jeez,” he says, rolling his eyes. Yet his arms find their way around Seto’s frame regardless. “Again with the waterworks. Do you ever stop crying?”

Seto only holds him tighter. He mutters incoherently into Crow’s scarf.

Crow would sigh if he had lungs. As it stands, he settles for tracing circles on Seto’s back with a huff. “Man, Seto, calm down, will ya? You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

Seto squeezes Crow’s jacket. “I haven’t,” he manages to say through his sobs.

Crow pauses his ministrations at that. “What are you talking about?” he asks. They just saw each other at the dam. Crow remembers it like it was yesterday – Seto had been crying there, too because Crow’s battery was…

Oh.

Crow takes stock of the boy – man – in his arms. He’s broader around his shoulders, less scrawny than Crow remembers. His muscles are more prominent and his grip is decidedly stronger. He’s taller, Crow can tell even though he’s still positioned awkwardly in a half crouch.

“Seto,” Crow says softly. He pulls back to look at Seto’s beautiful, bright eyes. “How long…?”

“It’s been ten years,” Seto says. He cups Crow’s cheek in his left palm. The skull ring glints in the moonlight. “I missed you,” Seto whispers. “I missed you so much.”

Crow can’t cry but he thinks that if he were able to, he would start right now. “Seto, what happened on that dam?”

Seto’s breath hitches. He looks anywhere but Crow’s face, finger tracing over Crow’s cheek.

“Seto?” Crow’s voice is soft, devoid of its usual confidence. He has no idea what to make of this, this… whatever this is.

Seto hesitates. “You died,” he says after a beat. “At the dam, I was with you. Your battery ran out and you died.”

Crow frowns. “I know that already,” he says. “I was there, too, ya know. Clearly the whole death thing didn’t stick.”

“It did, though!” Seto yells, suddenly frantic. “You died and when I went back, you were gone and I couldn’t find you! I looked for you, but I couldn’t…” Seto takes a deep, calming breath and dries his eyes. “I found something a few years ago – something I thought I could use to help you. But by the time I made it back to the dam, you were gone. I thought… I never thought I’d find you again but I did. And I… fixed you.”

Crow’s too astonished to speak. Seto fixed… but that’s impossible. Without a working battery, Crow can’t… And there hadn’t been anything around to recharge it; he searched himself. How could Seto…?

“Seto,” Crow whispers after a long silence. “Seto, tell me everything.”

* * *

“Solar power.”

A nod.

“These things fitted to my battery gather energy… from the sun.”

Another nod.

“So as long as I get enough sunlight, I won’t run out of power again?”

“I think so,” Seto says. “My refrigerator hasn’t at least.”

“I ain’t exactly a refrigerator,” Crow mutters. “But okay so you fixed me; I’m alive. What now?”

Seto blinks in bemusement. “What now?”

“Well, yeah.” Crow rolls his eyes. “Where are we anyway? I thought you were looking for other humans but you’re the only one here.”

“I,” Seto starts. Then he stops. His eyes lose their confusion, grief taking its place. Suddenly, Seto looks very far away, lost in the memories of a life long passed.

Crow thinks of changing the subject but then Seto continues. “I found one,” he says. “Ren was her name. She died three years ago.”

Died? But…

 _Right_ , Crow thinks. Humans are fragile. They get sick or break their bones or just grow older. Seto has. He’s probably gotten sick and broken a bone, too. He’ll die someday, long before Crow runs out of power thanks to these solar panels.

“You never found anyone else?” Crow asks.

“Never looked,” Seto says with a shrug. “Ren and I traveled everywhere, filled out maps, stuff like that. We never found anyone else, though. After she died, I didn’t see any point in searching again. If we didn’t run into a single human in seven years, I just…” he trails off, shaking his head. “There’s no point.”

"Of course there is!” Crow shouts, though he’s not sure why he’s suddenly so angry. “How can you say there's no one out there when you haven't even looked?"

"I did look!” Seto yells back, ire gleaming in his purple eyes. “We looked for seven years but there's no one... Things changed. I couldn't keep traveling forever. I need food and water. I had to build a home somewhere."

"Tch," Crow grunts but he can't say much else to that. He didn't think being human would require so much maintenance.

Seto brings up a good point. A permanent place of residence, a home as it were, is useful. A consistent place to return to where it’s safe and you can store your things – a place you can call your own – is... nice. Comforting, even. Though Crow's in no need of food or water or warmth, he can appreciate that a home makes these necessities more accessible.

It just seems unlike Seto to settle in a place like this with no one else to keep him company. When they’d first met, he’d been so determined to find someone. It just… how could he give up like this?

Crow gives the boy another once over. Things change, he supposes. Seto is different now, older, maybe wiser, too. Sadder at least, that’s for sure. Things change.

Well, whatever! So what if Seto’s different now? He’s still Seto and this is his home so it might as well be Crow’s home, too!

Speaking of, though, "Where is home?" he asks. There's not much to see in this room save the books lining the walls and the table he's lying on. There's a rolling cart full of tools and metal bits closer to Seto that Crow assumes doesn't actually belong there. A few other tables with half finished electronics and scrap metal underneath the room's single window cover the opposite wall but nothing looks too spectacular. Seto's never seemed like much of an engineer.

Things change, he supposes.

“This is where I grew up,” Seto says. “It’s an observatory.”

Crow cocks a brow. “A what now?”

“An observatory?” Seto frowns. “It’s a place where you can look at stars. Like with a telescope? You’ve never seen one before?”

Crow pouts, though he would deny it could be called something so cutesy. “I lived at an amusement park for most of my life, bite me.”

Seto tries and fails to hide a laugh behind his hand. It’s the first time Crow’s seen something like mirth in his eyes since the last time they’d met. Back then, Seto’s eyes hadn’t been filled with anything but tears as he held Crow in his arms. Crow likes this much better.

“Here.” Seto stands and grabs Crow’s hand. “I’ll show you.”

Crow stumbles a bit getting off the table. His joints are a little slow from a decade of disuse but they warm up quickly enough. Seto looks concerned for a moment but Crow only smirks when he sees he’s still a hair taller.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Crow asks when Seto hesitates for a second too long. “Show me the stars or whatever.”

Seto’s grin is bright enough to light the night. Crow thinks if he had a real heart, it would have skipped a beat.

* * *

“That’s Jupiter,” Seto says with a grin but Crow’s too busy looking into the telescope to see it.

“Cool,” he whispers in astonishment. He’s never seen anything like this before, this swirling ball of orange and white gas – apparently hydrogen, helium, and a host of other elements Crow’s never heard of according to the book in Seto’s hands. “What’s that red spot?”

Seto flips to a new page in the old book simple titled _Astronomy and Astrology_. “It’s about space,” Seto had said and that’s all Crow had needed to hear.

“It’s a storm,” Seto says after a beat. “’The Great Red Spot is a persistent anticyclonic storm on the planet Jupiter twenty two degrees south of the equator, which has lasted for at least  two hundred years,’” he reads. “Two hundred years…”

“Doesn’t look like any storm I’ve ever seen,” Crow says. “What does anticyclonic even mean?”

“Hang on, it’s in…” A yawn punctuates Seto’s words. “In the glossary.”

Crow would sigh if he didn’t find the display so surprisingly endearing. Seto’s been struggling to keep his eyes open ever since he and Crow squished into the single seat at the telescope. Crow doesn’t see why Seto hadn’t just sat in his lap or something. Seto’s body might be soft and pliable but Crow’s sure isn’t. But Seto got all red and tongue-tied when Crow offered so whatever. He can do what he wants.

Then Seto yawns again and Crow actually does sigh. He turns to stare at his sleepy seatmate. There are bags under his eyes and his ears are flushed redder than his hair.

It takes a moment for Seto to notice he’s being watched. “Um,” he mutters unintelligibly.

“You’re tired,” Crow deadpans.

“I’m fine,” Seto grumbles through a yawn.

Crow rolls his eyes. “Right and I can turn into a bear.”

“Can you?”

Crow almost laughs but no, no he needs to be stern about this. “Humans need rest,” he says.

“But I’m really-“

He doesn’t let Seto finish. In one motion, Crow throws Seto over his shoulder and jumps off the seat.

“H-hey!” Seto shouts. “Put me down! I can walk!”

Crow snorts but does as he’s told. Seto pouts so Crow ruffles his hair.

Seto huffs, muttering something about being an adult but Crow pays him no mind. Instead, he looks around for a suitable place to sleep. Where does Seto usually rest anyway?

As if reading his mind, Seto grabs Crow’s hand and pulls him toward the winding staircase adjacent to the telescope. “Come on,” he says. “If I have to sleep, so do you.”

Crow refrains from pointing out how ridiculous that is since he’s not human and doesn’t need to sleep but he supposes he’ll humor his companion. Humans don’t like to sleep alone, not according to the books he’s read on them.

The loft is much the same as everything else in the observatory that Crow’s seen so far – minimal yet functional. There’s a mattress in the middle of the floor, a pillow and blanket neatly folded on top, and a lantern beside it. Off to the side, there’s a small lounge chair and end table with one drawer and a few books on top of it.

Seto stands at the top of the staircase, face reddening with each passing second. Crow chalks it up to exhaustion. All right, he’ll do this himself then.

Crow lets go of Seto’s hand and grabs the blanket. “Well?” he prompts, glancing back.

Seto startles just a little. “O-oh, right,” he mutters as he starts undressing.

Crow watches, mesmerized as Seto removes his shirt. He is indeed more muscular than Crow remembers but he’s still slim. He’s tanner than he used to be, though it’s hard to tell in the moonlight. The vast expanse of skin along his back isn’t flawless as Crow might have guessed. It’s scarred, marred by the fighting he’d been forced to do all those years ago. But still, it looks soft.

Crow wonders if he would feel it if he touched it – the quivering mounds of muscle and deep valleys where scar tissue interrupts flesh like a river. Against his will, Crow’s fingertips reach out to touch, to feel.

But no. He pulls his hand back to his side. Even if he were to touch, he couldn’t feel it, not really. His sensors tell him when things are warm or cold but he’s never felt the heat of fire searing his skin. He’d never felt the icy winter wind stinging his cheek. He can’t feel pain or softness, only changes in texture. Would that be enough?

It doesn’t matter. Seto retrieves a shirt from the table drawer, effectively cutting off Crow’s view as well as his train of thought.

When Seto looks at him, fully clothed and even sleepier than before, he seems confused. “You’re not going to take off your shoes?”

Crow glances at his feet. It would be rude if he wore his boots on the bed, wouldn’t it.

Seto doesn’t watch him as Crow undresses. He crawls underneath the blanket, leaving more than enough space for another body.

So Crow follows suit. Almost immediately, Seto curls up against him, nuzzling his face into Crow’s chest even though they’re the same height now. _Almost_ , Crow reminds himself fiercely. A hair is a hair and he’s still taller.

Seto wraps an arm loosely around Crow’s waist. “I’m really glad I found you,” he mumbles.

Crow can’t help but smile fondly. It’s all so peaceful. It almost reminds him of the dam and yet it’s completely different. They’re not separating this time, not ever again if Crow can help it.

Crow settles further into his horizontal position. His own arm finds its way around Seto in return, fingers weaving their way through his hair. “I’m glad, too,” he says.


	3. Endless Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used is [Fly Me To The Moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhZ2X9znPxM) sung by Frank Sinatra

 

Time passes slowly. Seto keeps track of seasons rather than months - years rather than days - always sure roughly when the rainy season will hit and when he'll need to start hoarding supplies for the winter. But the sunrise and set have not dictated his life for many years. They bleed into one another, the sun and moon, melding together so imperceptibly it's impossible not to lose track of it. On more than one occasion, Seto's found himself staying in bed long into the morning or staying away from it well into the night simply because he can.

Crow makes things easier. He gathers food and does chores with zeal Seto hasn't known since he was a teenager himself. More than that, he prods Seto into action. He makes sure Seto gets up in the morning even when he doesn't want to. It's become less of an obstacle as of late. Seto wants to get up more days than not, now, if only to make up for the time they've lost.

"Argh!" Crow's indignant shouts draw Seto out of his musings. "Just get in the net you stupid-!"

Seto holds back a snort of amusement. Crow might lack the patience necessary to actually catch the fish, but getting to watch him wade ankle deep into the river, equal parts aggravation and focus, more than makes up for it.

Sunlight shimmers on the calm waters. Droplets glisten off Crow's dark hair, making it glitter like the trinkets adorning his person. His green eyes shine brilliantly. Seto finds himself transfixed by the scene and its beauty.

Time passes slowly. Moments like these make him grateful for that.

"Hey!" Crow yells from the river. "This would be easier if you actually got down here and helped me!"

Seto can't hold back a snort at that. True, his place on the bank probably isn't doing much good but he doesn't need any more fish right now. Crow's the one who’d wanted to come out here in the first place, not quite grasping the concepts of food spoilage and human digestion. "Just because humans need to eat sometimes doesn't mean we eat all the time," Seto had said but Crow hadn't listened.

"Yeah, laugh it up!" said boy shouts. "Maybe I'll just let you starve!"

Seto chooses not to bring up the fact that the only ones Crow's feeding with the fish he isn't catching are the cats. "It would be easier if you took off your boots!" he yells back.

Crow frowns down at his attire. He hadn't actually removed any of his clothes for this little excursion even though Seto had told him they would likely be ruined if they were to get wet. Crow had, predictably, waved him off. "You think a little water's gonna bother me?" he'd said. "Ha! I'm not as meek as you humans."

That had been at least several hours ago judging by the sun's position in the sky. Now, of course, Crow's simply too proud to go back on his words. Seto doesn't mind; Crow can always borrow clothes if he needs as they're about the same size now. Shoes, though, are a bit scarcer so they'll have to dry in front of the fire. Seto sighs. Crow won't like that but maybe he'll learn his lesson, though Seto has his doubts.

A wet boot lobbed in his direction, however, makes Seto think Crow might not be beyond hope. It misses him by several centimeters, landing instead to his right. "See!" he yells, holding it up. "I told you!"

Crow grumbles and tosses the other one. Seto grins victoriously. Now if only he would leave all his proclaimed treasures at the observatory, Crow might actually catch something.

“That’ll never happen,” Seto mutters affectionately. Crow would never let go of the shiny things he loves so much. Even when they sleep in the same bed, a regular occurrence ever since the first night, Crow’s treasures are never out of arm’s reach. At least, not the ones he usually wears. He’s already managed to fill a spare chest with mostly useless, though admittedly pretty, objects.

_Oh well,_ Seto thinks.  It’s not as if they don’t have the space.

Seto falls back onto the grass. The late summer sun warms his skin while white clouds drift lazily in the cool breeze up above. Soon the leaves will change, the temperature will drop, and Crow’s enthusiasm for fishing in the cold will become infinitely more helpful.

It’s peaceful, this existence – still and soft in a way that leaves Seto content rather than the plethora of unidentifiable negative emotions that have been swirling around in his heart since before Ren died. From before he even found her, he thinks.

“Ha!” Crow’s triumphant call breaks Seto of his thoughts before they can shift to melancholy. He sits up to see Crow holding up a rather large trout by the tail. It squirms and wriggles in Crow’s grip but it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. “And you said I wouldn’t catch anything!”

Seto chortles in good humor. He hadn’t _said_ Crow wouldn’t catch anything, just thought it. “You did it!” he cheers.

“You’re darn right!” Crow has approximately four seconds to look smug before the fish doubles its efforts to escape. Crow grunts, visibly struggling to keep his grip on the slippery trout but Seto can see it’s a pointless endeavor. When the trout flops back into the river, Crow goes down with it.

Seto blinks. He hadn’t… really expected that.

Then he bursts into a fit of laughter, loud and genuine in a way it hasn’t been for quite some time. He laughs until his sides ache and tears stream down his cheeks and when Crow sits up in the water, dripping wet and looking like a disgruntled cat, Seto laughs even harder.

“Oh shut up!” Crow shouts, throwing his hat at Seto. It hits him in the face but he just keeps laughing. Crow pouts and he just looks so adorable, Seto can’t stop.

Crow throws his hands up in frustration. “Will you just get down here and help me?”

It takes a second but Seto manages to get himself under control. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he says even though he’s not. He rolls up his pants and wades into the river. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Crow rolls his eyes. “Glad one of us is having fun,” he says, holding out his hand.

Seto should have predicted Crow’s next move. As soon as he takes the outstretched hand, Seto finds himself being pulled into the water by a pair of arms wrapped firmly around his waist.

Seto lets out a noise of surprise that he regrets seconds later when his mouth fills with river water. He struggles but Crow holds him fast.

Seto’s vision blurs underwater but he can still see the teasing smirk playing at Crow’s lips, the way his hair sways with the current, the mischief in his cat like eyes. Seto stares for a few moments too long, long enough for Crow’s lips to lose their smirk and part in confusion. Like this, Seto could almost…

The burning need in his lungs prevents him from doing anything stupid. Seto takes Crow’s lapse in concentration to break out of his hold and rise to the surface. He sputters and coughs, thoroughly soaked with the after taste of river water still fresh on his tongue. “Great,” he mutters, grimacing. “Now we’re both wet.”

Crow is far too busy laughing to care. “You shoulda seen your face!”

Seto gives his companion a playful shove. “You tricked me.”

Crow shrugs. “Consider it payback,” he says, shaking out his hair.

Seto tries and fails to shield himself against the water droplets hitting his face. He supposes it doesn’t matter; it’s not like he can get any wetter. “Come on,” he says, standing. “We should head back. Unless you want to try catching anything else?”

“Hey, I had that fish!”

“Is that why you ended up in the water?”

Crow glares, puffing his cheeks in annoyance. “Fine, I _would_ have had it. Maybe if I just…” He shifts his gaze to his hands, frowning in contemplation. “If I could just…” he mutters, frown deepening.

Seto watches Crow in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t… I can’t move my hands.” Crow’s eyes widen suddenly as a spark of electricity dances along his palm.

Realization hits Seto like a freight train. Of course! How could he be so stupid!

“Come on,” he urges. His heart thumps against his ribcage. _Calm down_ , he tells himself. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed, or so he hopes.

He grabs Crow by the elbow and heaves him up onto the shore. “Can you walk?” he asks.

Crow’s silent for a moment. He stares down at his are feet long enough that Seto knows the answer before he hears it. “No,” Crow replies. “I can’t move my hands or legs or anything! Urgh!”

“Hey, come on,” Seto says struggling to keep his voice calm. “The sooner we get back, the better. I can help you.”

Crow looks like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t. He lets Seto loop an arm under his shoulders. “What about my boots?” he asks.

For a moment, the black haired boy seems nothing like the Crow Seto had met all that time ago and even less like the Crow he’s been living with for the past month or so. If Seto didn’t know any better, he’d say Crow looks nervous – scared even.

It’s so strange, Seto finds himself terrified at the thought.

It takes some doing but Seto manages to pick up both boots without dropping Crow. It’s not much but it seems to placate Crow at least a little.

“Hey, Seto?” he says after a few minutes walking. “Next time, I wanna hunt rabbits.”

Seto snickers in amusement. “You sure they won’t be too fast for you?”

Crow pouts. He manages to jab Seto’s side even with his limited movement. “Just you wait. I’ll catch ten of ‘em, you’ll see!”

Seto chooses not to point out that there’s no way he could possibly eat ten of them before they spoiled. Over the horizon, the sun’s just starting to set as dusk creeps over the sky.

* * *

Seto roughly dries his hair with the only towel he owns. It's old and stained with something he doesn't want to think about but it does its job.

Their clothes and, in Crow's case, accessories hang along the clothesline. Seto smells unpleasantly of river water but the pajamas he's wearing are clean and dry so he can't complain.

Crow sits in front of the fire, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers. He'll dry faster with fewer layers between him and the fire but Seto still finds himself distracted by the sight.

Seto tries not to stare at Crow's mostly naked figure. He looks nothing like the other dolls decaying all over the forest. His skin, though it must be artificial, looks so real. It covers his entire body, leaving nothing exposed. Without any visible machinery, Crow looks as human as Seto, complete even with juts of muscle and boney joints.

Seto feels something settle in the pit of his stomach. He'd felt this around Ren, too, only a few times and he's old enough now to know what it means. He forces his eyes away from Crow's bare back with a heavy sigh. "I'm getting too old for this," he mutters to himself.

Crow hears him anyway. "Nah, humans have an average lifespan of eighty years," he says. Leisurely, he lies on his back, arms crossed behind his head. It doesn't exactly lessen the feeling in Seto's stomach. "Your existence is finite; live while you can."

"That's oddly insightful," Seto says.

"I'm full of surprises," Crow says, arching a brow in Seto's direction. "You just gonna stand there all night?"

"I," Seto starts and then stops. He's acting weird now. Crow's supposed to be his friend. Regardless of how Seto's body reacts to the boy, he can't let that change. So, he steels his resolve, tightens his grip on his feelings, and lays down beside his friend.

The fire is warm on his feet. The stars shine brightly through what's left of the glass ceiling. Without the moon to eclipse them, it's easy to find what few constellations he remembers reading about. He's always liked the stars. He used to believe just maybe, somewhere someone was looking up at the same sky, seeing the same stars as him.

He doesn't think so anymore but it doesn't bother him as it once had.

Seto shifts his gaze to his companion. Crow has his eyes closed. If not for the subtle twitches of his fingers, testing how much movement he's regained no doubt, Seto might think him asleep.

It's strange watching him. Crow's chest doesn't rise and fall, he doesn't make any noise when he doesn't want to and he has no facial ticks to speak of. It's these times when it becomes obvious just how inhuman Crow actually is. The dim firelight reflects off of his jet black hair, casting dark shadows against pale, glowing skin. He seems so otherworldly like this yet soft enough to touch. Seto can't help but let his fingertips brush against that silky black hair.

Crow cracks open a single green eye, hued yellow in the firelight. Seto feels his cheeks flush and tries to pull his hand back but Crow is quick to grab it. "It's okay, you know," he says. "Humans like to touch things, don't they? You can touch me, I don't care."

Seto's blush darkens as the feeling in his stomach returns. _That's not what he meant_ , he tells himself, but it's a bit more difficult getting his body to listen.

Crow doesn't seem to notice Seto's internal struggle. He doesn't hesitate at all to run Seto's hand through that dark hair. "How does it feel?" he asks.

"How does it feel?" Seto repeats. It's still damp, leaving a small trail of moisture along his palm, but it's just as soft as he remembers. "It's nice," he says after a beat. "It feels real. Is it?"

Crow releases Seto's hand to tug on a strand hanging loosely in front of his eyes. "I don't know, maybe." He twists the strand around his fingers contemplatively as if he’s not sure what real hair feels like.

Seto's not surprised then when Crows fingers gently twist their way around his maroon bangs. "How does it feel?" he asks.

Crow's brow furrows. His thumb strokes the strand for a few seconds before releasing it. "Dunno," he says. "Can't feel it. Robot, remember?"

Right. "Sorry," Seto says. "It's easy to forget."

Crow shrugs. "Don't worry about it. I can do way cooler things than any normal human can anyway."

Seto arches a brow, biting his lip to hold back a playful smirk. "Like fall into a river?"

"Hey!" Crow pouts, jabbing Seto in the ribs. "The only reason I was even in the river is because of you, ya know."

"And I told you, you didn't need to do that. I have plenty of food."

"Well excuse me if I don't want you to die." Crow huffs but there's no real bite to his words. Seto can't hold back a light chuckle at that. "Yeah, yeah," Crow mumbles. He turns onto his side, throwing an arm around Seto. "Joke's on you, I like it when you laugh."

Seto freezes, blush returning with a vengeance. He has to look away but he feels Crow smirking against his shoulder.

* * *

One day, a few weeks after the incident, Crow asks Seto to go on an adventure of sorts. Or rather, Crow tells Seto that he’s bored and all but demands one.

“Take me to the shrine where you found me,” he says.

“Why there?” Seto asks. True, Crow’s never actually seen the shrine he’d been more or less stored in for presumably ten years. Frankly, Seto’s not sure why he’d want to. “Wouldn’t it just have bad memories?”

Crow gives Seto a skeptical look. “You’re not going to get all sentimental on me, are you?”

“I promise nothing,” Seto says teasingly.

Crow snorts. “Well, whatever. There aren’t any bad memories there for me. There aren’t any memories at all there for me so quit worrying and take me.”

Seto can’t say much to that. His own feelings about the place are largely positive given what came of his first accidental trip there. But there’s another place with more memories that they’ll need to pass through to get there.

* * *

It’s strange being in the amusement park again. Ten years may have passed since their first meeting in this place but for Crow, it’s only been a few months.

Before they’d met, this had been his whole world. No friends, no family, and no memories, Crow spent most of his time playing. Climbing around the decrepit amusement park, pretending he was a pirate in search of treasure, collecting anything he found even remotely appealing – he hadn’t felt the need to leave.

_That’s not true, though, is it_.

No, there had been reason to leave. No friends, no family, and no memories. More than once, Crow decided to look for them himself. But he never left. He had told himself he was just waiting for the right time – to stumble upon some clue. If he left the amusement park with no direction, he’d just get lost and then what? What would happen to all his treasures at the park, huh?

But that’s not true either. He’d been afraid, not of what he might find, but that he might not find anything at all. The park was familiar, comfortable. He hadn’t wanted to lose what little he had.

In a way, he’d been jealous of Seto. Seto knew what he wanted. He had a goal and he was chasing it and Crow hated that. It was Crow who was supposed to be brave and Crow who was supposed to go on adventures, not this human.

So, he bullied Seto a little – forced him to play for just a while. It had been so easy, too. Seto had fallen right into his role as the naïve human boy, desperately chasing after the fabled pirate king, Crow.

But chase Crow he did. Even caught him. Crow had never been happier to lose at his own game.

Seto stirred something inside him – something like determination and something else like love. Crow knows that now.

Funny how, even when so much time passes, some things never change.

“What are you thinking about?” Seto asks from his place beside Crow. The soft firelight makes his amethyst eyes sparkle like the gemstones they resemble. Some things never change.

Crow shakes his head and lies on his back, the full moon shining overhead. “Just memories,” he says.

“Memories?” Seto repeats, lying down beside him.

“Yeah.” Crow turns his head to look at his companion. Seto’s eyes are much prettier than the moon anyway. “Good ones,” he says with a smile.

Seto smiles, too.

* * *

The shrine is still as messy as he remembers. Time has only added to the layers of dust coating every available surface while ivy has almost completely taken over the outer walls. And yet, it seems untouched, the only noticeable absence being what he’d taken last time.

“What are we looking for?” Seto asks.

Crow’s already knee deep in junk, sifting trash around like a kid in a candy store. “Anything,” he says. “You’re the mechanics guy; just see if you can find anything useful.”

“Okay,” Seto says. “And what are _you_ looking for?”

Without missing a beat, Crow pulls out an only slightly damaged crystal star ornament from the pile. “Treasure,” he says, grinning triumphantly.

Seto shakes his head but Crow’s smile is infectious. Seems his love for shiny things goes beyond the metal he wears.

Seto doesn’t need much by way of mechanical bits, but he sets to searching regardless. He finds a few things – dead batteries, blankets and spare cloth, and a whole sewing kit complete with new spools of thread and needles – but there isn't much else he needs. He’s never had the opportunity or desire to take apart the decaying dolls and find out how they work so his knowledge regarding Crow’s… situation is a little limited. Besides that, very little looks salvageable. It's amazing just how unscathed Crow had been even after spending a decade here.

Speaking of... "Hey! Come look at this!" Crow calls from the over side of the room.

Seto steps as carefully as he can across the floor. It's a slow process. "Did you find something?" he asks, still too far away to see it.

In the time it takes Seto to completely cross the room, Crow manages to pull the thing from the pile. "I think so?" he asks rather than says.

Seto tilts his head, finally getting a good look at the...

"What is that thing?"

* * *

“A phonograph!”

“A what now?”

“A phonograph,” Seto reads. “Is a device invented in 1877 by Thomas Edison for the mechanical recording and reproduction of sound. The sound vibration waveforms, whatever those are, are recorded as corresponding physical deviations of a spiral groove engraved into the surface of a cylinder or disc, called a "record". To recreate the sound, the record is rotated while a playback stylus traces the groove and is therefore vibrated by it, reproducing the recorded sound.”

Crow blinks. That was… wordy. “So it plays music?”

“I guess so,” Seto says, nose still in the book. “It can be used to play back any recorded sound but music was its most popular use.”

Crow pokes the thing – phonograph – again. Seto had miraculously got it to turn on after futzing with the batteries but it hadn’t played anything. That must mean… “We need a record,” he says.

Seto hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think,” he starts and then abruptly cuts himself off. “Actually, wait here.”

Before Crow can ask, Seto jumps up and sprints down the loft stairs.

Crow huffs and flops back down onto the mattress. Music might be nice. He doesn’t think he’s ever actually heard it before, not like Seto probably has, but he knows what it is. Humans like it a lot, he thinks. Maybe it’ll make Seto happy.

Seto isn’t happy all the time. Crow supposes no one is – he certainly isn’t but he’s not human either. Some days are worse than others. Sometimes Seto wakes up crying and doesn’t want to get out of bed after that. Those days are the worst.

Yesterday had been a day like that until Crow finally got sick of it and made Seto take him to the shrine. It seemed to alleviate some of Seto’s sorrow, at least.

Crow still gets jealous sometimes – jealous that Seto can cry and jealous of the people he cries for. He wonders sometimes if Seto had ever cried like that over him after the first time. The vain part of him almost hopes so but there’s another, much bigger part of him that desperately hopes not. It’s this part that chastises him when he sees Seto cry; that makes him drag Seto out of bed and demand they do something.

He doesn’t understand Seto’s grief. He doesn’t think he can, not really. But he knows he doesn’t like it. He knows he’d do anything to make it go away, if only for a little while.

“Jeez,” Crow says to himself. “When did you get this sappy?”

Footsteps pull Crow from his thoughts. “I knew there had to be something,” Seto says as he reaches the top of the stairs.

Crow jumps up to see Seto place a large, black disc on the main box of the phonograph. “What is it?” he asks.

“A record,” Seto replies. “I knew I’d seen them somewhere before. Grandpa used to collect this old stuff when he was still alive. I don’t think he ever played them, though, least not that I remember.”

Crow tilts his head. “What’s the point of keeping ‘em if you can’t play ‘em?”

Seto mulls it over for a moment. “Huh, you know what? I don’t know.”

Huh. _Well, whatever. Humans are so weird._

Crow watches over Seto’s shoulder as he turns on the machine. The disc immediately starts spinning but it isn’t playing any music.

“Okay, now,” Seto mutters, placing the stylus needle thing on the disc. “I think this goes here.”

There’s static for a moment, then a faint ticking. Then…

_“Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars,”_ the device sings.

Seto positively beams. “It works!”

Crow finds his foot tapping along to the rhythm. It does work and it’s pretty catchy.

_“Let me see what spring is like on a-Jupiter and Mars.”_

“Cool,” Seto says. “I wonder what else there-“

Crow grabs Seto’s hand and pulls him to the middle of the floor without waiting for him to finish. “Think later; dance now.”

“D-dance?” Seto stutters, cheeks reddening.

_“Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more.”_

Crow smirks. Seto’s pretty cute when he blushes. “Yes, dance.” He takes Seto’s hands in his and starts to move to the music. There isn’t much rhyme or reason to his movements; he just does whatever feels good.

Seto stares at their feet, brow furrowed and clearly putting way too much thought into this.

_“In other words, please be true.”_

Crow wraps an arm around Seto’s waist and pulls their bodies closer. Seto trips a little and has to grab Crow’s shoulder. _This is good_ , he thinks. It’s just like what he’s seen in books.

It only takes a few moments from there for Seto to relax and start moving along. He laughs, letting Crow turn him about with no direction. The jazzy beat plays from the phonograph. The words seem inconsequential but Crow remembers them anyway.

“Fill my heart with song, let me sing forever more,” he sings along, twirling Seto. “You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.”

Seto all but giggles with glee. Crow knows he doesn’t have a heart but he still feels it swell with joy. He adores that laugh.

They’re so distracted that they don’t notice the mattress coming up behind them.

_“In other words, please be true.”_

Seto’s feet hit the bed, making him fall backwards.

_“In other words…”_

His grip on Crow’s shoulder tightens instinctively, bringing the robot down on top of him.

_“In other words…”_

When Crow opens his eyes, Seto’s lying on his back underneath him, lips parted and face flushed.

_“I love…”_

_What… is this?_

_“You.”_

The music fades out in the background. “Are you all right?” Crow whispers, afraid to ruin whatever this is.

Seto hesitates for a moment. “I,” he starts. Then he sits up abruptly, forcing Crow to move back. “I’m fine,” he says. “Are you?”

Crow frowns. “I’m fine,” he says slowly. Whatever moment they were having is dead now and Seto killed it. Why would he do that?

“Sorry, I’m not a very good dance partner,” Seto says, laughing sheepishly.

“You were fine,” Crow says. “Next time, we should move the bed.”

“N-next time?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. He’s not letting Seto get away that easily. “Next time.”

* * *

Time may pass slowly but no summer is endless. Soon enough, the temperature drops, the forest becomes a sea of burning reds and yellows, and one of Seto’s gardens is ready for harvesting.

The whole affair takes much less time with two people, especially when Crow finds an old horse drawn plow and somehow manages to drag it through the dirt without it snapping in two. By the time they're finished, the cabbage and spinach seeds have all been planted and there's a basket full of sweet potatoes and carrots ready for stewing.

That's not to say, of course, that things go completely without a hitch.

Seto sweeps a small paintbrush between the exposed wiring of Crow's hand, delicately wiping away what little soil remains trapped their. "It's kind of funny," he says not unkindly. "You're actually supposed to wear gloves gardening but it's the one time you took them off."

In an effort to keep them clean, Crow had actually removed most of his outer layers and left them in the observatory. "I see what you did to my ring," he'd said. "I ain't letting any of my treasures get like that."

He'd succeeded in that venture, at least. Unfortunately, this left the crevices between his skin, minute as they are, exposed. Dirt quickly filled every available space. By the time they'd finished, Crow had completely lost control of his hands.

Crow glares down at his hands as if they've betrayed him. In a way, Seto supposes they have. "I get it, I screwed up," he bites out. "Tch, this body's not good for anything."

Seto frowns. "I didn't mean it like that," he says. "And anyway, I don't see how you can say that when the only reason we finished as fast as we did is because of you and your body."

“I didn’t finish anything,” he says bitterly. “You finished without me. What’s the point of even keeping me around?”

Rage flares in Seto’s gut for the first time in a long time. What’s the point? “How can you even say something like that?” he whispers, voice trembling. “Do you think I’d just throw you out when you stopped being useful?”

“It’s not about _that_!” Crow scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t throw me out; you’re too you! You take in blind strays and give them all your fish and spend your time fixing me when you should be focusing on surviving!”

Seto blinks, anger vanishing as quick as it came. “Is that what this is about?”

“Well, duh! Humans are fragile and squishy and they get sick all the time! You could die at any moment! What if you starve, huh? Then what? Hey, stop laughing! I’m being serious!”

Seto tries to stop, he really does, but he can’t help himself. Of all the things Crow could possibly be worried about. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s just, what did you think I was doing before I found you?”

“Making friends with the local wildlife, how should I know?” Crow looks away, arms crossed and a scowl gracing his features. “Does it matter? If I’m not useful then all you’re doing it wasting time fixing me.”

“Crow,” Seto calls gently. “You know, when I found you again, it was probably the happiest day of my life.”

At least that gets Crow’s attention. Reluctantly, he lets Seto pry his arms loose and retake his hand.

Seto runs his thumb over the still exposed wiring. It’s almost funny – Crow is by far the more expressive of the two yet he calls himself inhuman.

“I survived as long as I did,” he says. “I fished and gathered berries and water the same as I do now. I was surviving just fine.” He pauses and tries to gauge his companion’s reaction, a mixture of confusion and something else – something oddly reminiscent of the way Seto looks at Crow.

“I didn’t bring you back here because I thought you could be useful,” he continues. “I didn’t have a reason. I just saw you and I felt so happy. After all those years, I found my best friend again.” He squeezes Crow’s hand, desperately hoping to make him understand. “I can survive just fine without you but I don’t want to. For years, I missed you so much it hurt. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

Seto inhales deeply, exhales slowly. His cheeks are on fire and his heart hammers away in his chest and he’s never felt so vulnerable but he refuses to regret it. If it means Crow understands his feelings, he’ll shout them from the rooftop. Even if they go unanswered, he won’t hold back.

Crow’s quiet for what feels like a long time. Tentatively, almost shyly, he trails a finger along Seto’s hand to the all too familiar ring he still never takes off.

“You missed me, huh?” Crow whispers.

“Every day,” Seto says immediately. He refuses to hesitate any longer.

“Jeez, are you always this sappy?”

The embarrassment coloring his words makes Seto’s smile widen. “Don’t make me hit you,” he says but there’s no heat behind the threat.

Crow snorts. “Oh, I’m so scared. It’s not like I’d feel it anyway. Can’t feel anything, remember?”

“You feel plenty.”

Crow arches a brow. “Look, I know you forget about the whole robot thing sometimes, but trust me on this.”

“And you trust me.” No more hesitating. Seto presses Crow’s hand firmly to his rapidly beating heart. “You’re like me. Here, you feel plenty, don’t you?”

Before he can think better of it, Seto closes what little distance remains between them. Crow's lips are as soft as they look, not warm or cool, but pleasant. It's gentle and chaste and much too short for Seto's liking.

Crow stares at him through half lidded eyes when he pulls back. “I thought friends didn’t kiss.”

"They don't," Seto says. This time when they kiss, they meet halfway.

 


End file.
